I Can't Make You Love Me
by Gwinny
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has always prided himself on being without 'emotion.' He has found a complication in his theory with his traitorous desire for Molly Hooper. He knows that he must keep his feelings hidden for fear of them leading Molly into danger, even if that means breaking her heart. Title is from the song I Can't Make You Love Me by Bonnie Raitt


He watched her as she entered her house and he silently followed her path, to where the warm lights beckoned him to enter. She stood in her kitchen, turning on the kettle, before bending down to stroke Toby and set out his food. As she took off her coat and pulled out her ponytail, Sherlock's lips curved up with a smile.

Molly Hooper…his pathologist. She was warm, kind and beautiful, and for some unfathomable reason, she loved him. Since the day that she'd helped him fake his death, he had hidden his feelings for Molly. They remained friends, even though sometimes he'd strained their friendship, especially during his drug use. On his side, when she'd become engaged to that buffoon, Tom, who was clearly a substitute for him.

He shook himself out of his reverie, and observed Molly was dressed for bed, wearing a nightgown made of cotton and lace. It amused him, that Molly practical to a fault, wore such atrocious clothes during the day, and had a taste for fine lace night wear.

Enough of this sneaking about and spying on her, it was time to make himself known. Sherlock walked around to her front door and knocked firmly. He had long learned that lock picking was something not good and his ears rang with the remembrance of her shouting at him for picking her locks. She opened the door and scowled at him.

Sherlock immediately scanned his mind palace to think of what he'd done to cause that scowl. He couldn't think of anything he'd done recently, he hadn't left the lab dirty, he hadn't done any drugs, smoked or called her any names. None of this explained why she hadn't met him in their usual spot at 5pm. She stepped aside and let him in, so her neighbors wouldn't stare at the detective on her doorstep.

"Did you forget to meet me?" Sherlock asked, as soon as she closed the door. He bent over her and smiled at her. Molly was forced to bend her neck back to meet his eyes.

"No, I didn't forget." Molly replied tightly.

"Then where were you?"

"Does it matter?"

Sherlock studied her carefully and deduced she was upset with something she'd heard. What could she have heard? "Who upset you, Molly? Who have you talked to?"

"John called. Since you'd received such an important text, I assumed you didn't want to meet with me."

"Bloody John!" he shouted. "Molly, I promise you, Irene texted me to wish me Happy Birthday, I have nothing to do with her!" This was the source of Molly's refusal to meet him – jealousy. She obviously thought that he was in contact with Irene Adler because of John!

Molly's big brown eyes were searching his eyes intently as if she was trying to see if he was being deceptive. After all, Molly was the only one who could ever see straight through his bullshit. "What if she came back?" she asked. "Would you go back to her?"

Sherlock reached out and pulled her against him. "No." he said roughly. "I only want you."

The feel of her in his arms, so warm and silky skin, made his stomach twist into knots. He needed her, he always needed her, Molly was his new drug, and he bent his head and filled himself with the smell of her…lemon, soapy skin, and something that was uniquely Molly.

Molly reached up to run her fingers through his dark curls. He loved the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. Sometimes he would lay his head in Molly's lap when he was in his mind palace and she would run her fingers through his hair for hours. As they were locked in this embrace, Sherlock bent down and brought his mouth to hers.

Every time they kissed, it was such a shock to his system. He was always struck still by the pleasure of her lush lips against his. His hands stroked down her arms and down to her body to reach underneath her bum. He then lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Molly grasped his shoulders, while he stroked his tongue into her mouth. This desire always flared between them, and although everyone thought him a virgin, he had experienced other women, he'd never felt such a mix of emotion and desire as he did when he was with Molly.

Tearing his mouth from hers, "Tell me you want this." Sherlock told her.

Molly made a shaky laugh. "Can't you tell? I love you. I've always loved-"

He took her mouth again to stop the words. He knew that she loved him, he'd always known, but he couldn't face her words, couldn't say them back. He walked her back to the bedroom and placed her down on the bed.

Molly knew he hadn't said the words back and she knew deep down that he never would. If this was all she could have of Sherlock Holmes, then this is what she would take. She held her arms open and he went into them. She moaned as his lush lips caught hers in another erotic kiss. Hungrily, she slid her arms under his shirt, feeling his hard muscles. She pulled her hands out and undid his straining buttons, before sliding the shirt down his arms. She looked at him and thought how beautiful he was before his hands returned to her. He knew, that this would change everything between them, but it would be worth it.

Sherlock reached for the yellow lace nightgown she was wearing and pulled it over her head. He stilled to admire the beauty of her body. Molly stared up at him, relishing the expression on his face, and the way his eyes had changed to a sea-green as they narrowed in passion. His skilled musician fingers, touched her breast, weighing each one in his hands, his thumbs stroking over her nipples. He bent his head to trace her nipples with his tongue. Molly gasped with pleasure, her swirling thoughts stopping as he drew her right breast fully into his mouth to suckle her. As he tugged and teased her nipples, she could feel her pussy throbbing in demand.

Molly slipped her hands into his trousers, ripped open the clasp and tugged down his zipper. She pushed his trousers down and started stroking him. Her tiny hands were going to drive him over the edge before he could even make her come. He grabbed her wrists in one hand and pulled her arms over her head.

"I need you, Sherlock, I need you inside me, I'm aching for you…"

"God Molly, you don't need to beg, you know how much I need you."

He shifted over her and lined up his thick cock with her dripping sex. As he sank his cock into her pussy they both moaned at the feeling. Once he was completely seated within her tight heat, she brought her legs up around his waist making him go deeper within her. He was still as he committed this memory to his mind palace. This felt like no other encounter he'd ever had, it was special.

Molly rolled her hips up to his. He thrust into her harder and harder and she met him thrust for thrust. He let go of her hands and they came up to grab his ass. "Harder" she moaned and he was more than happy to comply.

"Molly, I need you so much!" he spoke as he drove into her with all his strength. He moved his mouth over hers, before trailing it down to once again suckle her breast. He heard Molly call his name, felt her pussy clamp down over his cock. He knew that she was close, which was good.

Releasing her breast, he looked down at her, her eyes were tightly shut, her head thrown back and mouth open as she screamed his name. As she came, he felt his balls tightening and he swore he saw lights as he came. His body shook as he emptied himself deep into her womb.

As they came down from their mutual climaxes, Molly wrapped her arms around his back and kissed his sweat slicked shoulder. He kissed her softly and she smiled at him, thinking how far they'd come from him ignoring her to being together. Molly didn't say anything to him, she was just content to snuggle for now. She stopped herself from saying 'I love you,' as she didn't want to hear the empty silence after her words.

As Molly drifted off to sleep warm and content, Sherlock looked down at her, thinking how he did truly love her, but could never say the words.


End file.
